


Dear Marvel Studios

by Meilan_Firaga



Category: Deadpool (Movieverse), Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Best Friends, Companionable Snark, Crack, Deadpool 2 Spoilers, Developing Friendships, Fix-It of Sorts, Friendship, Gen, Sarcasm, Sassy, Sister Margaret's, Snark, Stream of Consciousness, all the weirdness that comes with deadpool, my answer to kicking tj miller to the curb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 06:08:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15382362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meilan_Firaga/pseuds/Meilan_Firaga
Summary: The more things change, the more they're way better off not staying the same. Wade takes his new merry band of misfits to his favorite bar to find that things have definitely changed.





	Dear Marvel Studios

**Author's Note:**

> I have been trying to get this out of my head ever since I saw Deadpool 2. A few spoilers for that, but this is mostly my answer to everything going around saying that TJ Miller will no longer be involved with the Deadpool franchise.

A Deadpool movie--because, let’s face it, calling it X-Force doesn’t make it any less of a Deadpool movie--just wouldn’t be complete without a visit to Sister Margaret’s. As far as iconic franchise locations go, it’s kind of the only one besides the Stuart-McAvoy Mansion For a Bare Handful of Mutants. So, naturally, his favorite little bar with the sticky floors and the bartender who’d bet on him to die was exactly where Wade led his happy little band of assholes once they’d left a certain orphanage burning down to cinders in their wake. All sentimentality aside, he really wanted to see what would happen if he sent Buck a blowjob and blamed it on Colossus this time. A little foreplay is always a welcome distraction from the existential pain of losing everything you hold dear very shortly after finding it again. Some things never change and those constants, like Sister Margaret’s, are very important when your life just keeps going to shit.

When Wade and his new crew sauntered through the door, ready to get their drink on and maybe develop the character relationships a bit further, someone new was behind the bar. Of course someone new was behind the bar. With Weasel nowhere in sight. And all the usual patrons acting like everything was perfectly normal. It’s not like change in the regular routine could have a negative impact on a person’s fragile emotional state or anything. Never.

New girl didn’t even look like she could possibly belong in a place like Sister Margaret’s. Sure, the plaid button down that was hanging open to either side of her frankly spectacular boobs was just the right type of grunge for the locale. Sure, those boobs were covered by a tight black top with the words “FUCK OFF” bedazzled in glimmering purple and the beanie on her head sported an embroidered patch of a skeletal hand giving the middle finger. Sure, she hadn’t even looked up from the Food Wars! manga she was reading (volume 25, which wasn’t even out in the States yet) like the completely nonchalant figure a bartender for mercenaries ought to be. She even had a pair of cute glasses perched on her nose the way that all those mostly harmless bartender sidekicks should. Okay, maybe she totally looked like she belonged in Sister Margaret’s, but that didn’t mean that Wade had to like it.

“Are you going to order, Super-Dick, or just stand at the end of my bar and describe me?” she asked suddenly, popping her gum and not even glancing up from the manga.

“I have got to stop narrating out loud,” Wade grumbled. He sauntered around the bar to stand in front of her, leaning forward on his elbows. “What happened to Weasel?”

“The boys found out he gave all your secrets to Cable and decided he needed to retire.”

“Not buying it. It’s almost like the studio thought it would be a kind of poetic irony to replace an actor who was a colossal dick to women with that witty chick they wrote out of the other franchise.” He expected a blank stare or an insistence that he was unbalanced. That was what people usually did when he started talking about the studio stuff. The new bartender didn’t even blink.

“Whatever you say, dude.” She finally set the manga aside and fixed him with a bored stare. “I’m Darcy Lewis, new Queen Bitch of this fine establishment. You must be Wade.” She looked him up and down, quirking an eyebrow in a way that clearly said  _ ‘I am not impressed. _ ’ “You as fugly under that little luchador mask as everyone says you are?”

In answer, Wade tugged the mask off and leaned even closer. To her credit, Darcy didn’t even flinch.“I don’t know. I think I’ve got a kind of Phantom of the Opera thing going for me.”

“Nah, at least part of his jawline was kind of pretty,” Darcy quipped, placing her hands on the bartop and leaning toward him until they were eye to eye. “You’re not as bad as some of the weird shit I’ve seen in the name of college credits, though, so this is kind of a let down.”

Ah. Banter. The fastest way to Wade’s heart. “So, what’s your superpower?” he asked, giving her an appraising look while he dragged a barstool over with his foot and settled on top of it. “Magical Boobs of Flavor? Do your nipples produce sweet, juicy mixed drinks with high alcohol content that you milk straight into the glasses of your customers?”

“I’ve got a telepathic radar for good dick,” she told him with a smile that was sweet as pie. “You’re not on it.”

“Ha! Another fake laugh. Hiding very real pain. Might have to blow myself up again.”

“Can you leave Lady Luck and Angrier Bucky of the Future behind?” Darcy asked, tilting her chin to where Domino and Cable were settling around a table with Colossus and Dopinder. “They’re making my radar go haywire.”

Turning to look over his shoulder, he assessed his new comrades. Colossus, apparently dubious about the chairs being able to hold his weight--with good reason, the guy weighed a literal ton--was leaning against the wall. The others had found seats and were chatting amiably with one of the waitresses that had been conveniently neglected in the second movie. “First of all, I’m surprised manly, massive, and metallic didn’t set off any alarms.”

“I figured he was yours. Mama doesn’t jump on a claimed dick no matter how far up the ranking goes.”

“Why does everyone think that?” he whined. With narrowed eyes Wade glanced from Darcy to Domino and back again, quirking up what used to be an eyebrow. “And second of all, more importantly, how can Domino rank on a good dick radar? Unless she’s hiding some anatomy--which, no judgement, we just haven’t had time to talk that over--I don’t think she’s packing a lot that protrudes south of the border.”

“I never said good dick had to be permanently attached.” She raised an eyebrow of her own and gave him a truly wicked smirk.

“Point taken. Strap-ons for Christmas it is.”

“I’m Jewish,” she told him as the waitress came by with the drink order for his team. 

“Oh, goodie!” Wade shrieked while Darcy moved about behind the bar making drinks. “Eight nights of sex toy presents!”

She set a fruity cocktail with two little umbrellas in front of him without being asked before returning to loading up the waitress’ tray. “That’s not actually how Hanukkah works, but you do what makes you happy.”

“Speaking of sex toys, shouldn’t you be off fucking, like, all of the Avengers?” After a brief pause he pursed his lips and added “And villains? And weirdly popular side characters?”

“I mean, I wouldn’t say no,” Darcy admitted. “Good sex is good sex.” She finished the drink order and sent waitress off before leaning against the counter in front of him again. “Speaking of good sex, have you spoken to any muscle-y immortal dudes with bad sideburns and a stabbing complex lately? I feel like he and I are due for a rough and tumble.”

Wade stabbed one of the paper umbrellas at the air dangerously close to the tip of Darcy’s nose. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that because fuck that guy and his stupid kidfic movie that he talked someone into putting on the big screen so he could make half the population cry.” He idly stirred his drink with the crazy straw she’d given him, pouting. “He never calls, never writes. It’s like he wants to pretend nothing ever happened between us.”

“Have a tissue, babe.” She handed him one of the good tissues--the super soft kind with lotion in them--from somewhere under the bar and graced him with a look of commiseration. “I hate it when men ghost on people. No more Darcy roller coaster rides for that guy until he patches things up with you.”

“Thank you. That means more than you’ll ever know.” Wade dabbed his eyes with the tissue, tucked it into her cleavage, and took a deep sip from his drink. It tasted like strawberry sunshine and a liberal dose of rum. She definitely made better drinks than what’s-his-fuck, and he told her so.

Darcy just nodded and produced a fruity drink of her own, sipping from a sparkly purple crazy straw. “Does this mean you and I are cool even though I took over your buddy’s bar and may or may not have helped make him disappear?”

“Honestly, I’ve already forgotten his name. He bet on me to die before I got all fucked up, you know.” He dragged a napkin over and started to doodle with a marker he pulled from his belt. “Besides, I feel like your rapier wit and glorious tits will mesh well with my aesthetic. Might even enhance an already golden franchise.” He finished the drawing and held it up for Darcy to see. 

“I aim to please.” She grinned at his rendition of a cartoon Colossus presenting a massive metal erection with a come hither look on his face, and held up one finger to ask him to wait. After a few seconds of digging behind the bar, she lathered shimmery silver lipgloss on her lips and pressed a kiss to the napkin’s edge. “Hey, Kelly!” she called, flagging down the waitress as she passed close to the bar.

“My name is Sheila.” 

Wade and Darcy scoffed at the same time. “Not in this bar, you’re not,” Darcy insisted, slapping the kissed and doodled napkin onto Not-Kelly’s tray. “Take that to Buck and tell him it’s from shiny and chrome over there.”

“Can we have a slumber party?” Wade asked with glee as Not-Kelly sauntered off.

Darcy arched an eyebrow over her glasses. “Are you going to wear the slumber party uniform?”

“I mean, yeah, because I’m not at all picky, but let’s pretend for a moment that I am picky so you can describe the uniform and give our readers some great imagery.”

“No pants, no shoes--unless you’ve got ridiculous house slippers and no, crocs don’t count. Cutesy printed knee socks. Undergarments must have a sassy word or phrase across the ass. Oversized shirt. Unicorn graphics encouraged.”

“I’m making us friendship bracelets.”

“With sparkles or no deal.”

Across the bar, Buck flipped a table and started stomping off with purpose only to pull up short at the sight of Colossus. He looked helplessly around the room, the napkin clenched in his fist, before he seemed to realize that if he didn’t at least give the guy a piece of his mind his reputation would be decimated. The resulting chaos of Buck’s angry shouts followed by Colossus’ utter confusion and the subsequent awkward conversation were going to go down in Wade’s diary as one of the top five best Buck pranks in history. He made braided friendship bracelets that sparkled with the glimmer of diamonds he’d ‘liberated’ from a couple of armed robbers that very same night. Both Wade and Darcy never took them off.


End file.
